Full Metal Panic! The Goddess Conspiracy
by The Ardent Warrior-Poet
Summary: A re-write of IwriteThings' story "Goddess Complex." I have obtained permission for this! In the aftermath of Mithril's final battle with Amalgam, Sousuke is stranded on Merida Island with minutes before nukes destroy everything. He makes a decision...


_**I own nothing...**_

**Full Metal Panic!**

_**The Goddess Conspiracy**_

_**Prologue: Minutes to Midnight**_

_Western Runway; M__é__rida Island; 0647 GMT_

In the aftermath of the battle, I was on my knees cradling the body of the only man I ever cared about.

Although he was my superior officer for most of my military career, he was my closest friend. My first friend, in truth. He was also my mentor, the one who trained me, guided me, and saved my life on several occasions. And I, in turn, saved his. To anyone else who hadn't gone through the trials of the past two years, they would not be incorrect to consider him a hero amongst heroes. The ideal of the perfect soldier.

But I knew better now. He told me himself, not even two minutes before he died of his wounds. The soldier was a man, one that deeply missed his dead wife and child. And he would do anything and everything within his power to change that event... and he would kill anyone who would stand in his way. Including me.

This man was considered the greatest tactician Mithril ever had. He was also their worst traitor. And he was my father in everything but blood.

Andrei Sergeivich Kalinin. Born in Moscow, Russia, 1957. Died in my arms on Mérida Island, South Pacific Ocean, 2000. His last words to me cut deeper than the knife he used to try and gut me like a pig.

Ikinasai_,_ he had whispered. Japanese words instead of his native Russian. They meant,_ Go on... and live._

Bastard. My mother had also said the same thing to me another life ago, before the military became my family. Like Lieutenant-Commander... no, _Major _Kalinin, she too had died of her wounds. Also in my arms,I recalled bitterly. No matter how hard I try to hold on, everything I love keeps getting torn away from me.

It isn't fair.

Somewhere in the distance, the whine of turboprop engines howled through the air and I looked up into the sky. Ah, there it was. I saw the plane _King Air_ make its way airborne off Mérida Island. Inside was Captain Tessa and the rest of the crew of the _Tuatha De Danaan_.

What remained of it, anyway.

I glanced at my watch ‒ ten minutes left before impact. Several calculations ran through my mind, judging the _King Air's_ maximum speed divided by its hypothetical acceleration. I didn't know the aircraft's capabilities so I had to guess. Fortunately, the outlook of my estimate seemed positive: If they went full speed now, they would just barely make the outer limits of the safety zone.

Hopefully the shockwave of the nuclear warhead speeding towards this tiny shithole of an island wouldn't swat them from the air like a newspaper does a fly.

"Chidori..." I whispered. She would be on that plane as well.

There was so much that I wanted to say to her, yet she was up there and I was down here. I suppose I could said something earlier, before my ill-fated battle with Kalinin, when Tessa was screaming for me across the comm to escape with her in the plane. I'd been waiting for over a year to say what I wanted to Kaname, fighting and killing and surviving as I tracked her from one shithole country to the next, always two steps behind her and Amalgam.

And I had nearly a dozen seconds to make my peace with the woman I had come to care for... _To love, _I mentally corrected.

But I had said nothing. Not a single half-uttered syllable. Nothing.

I didn't even know if she recovered her true self from the _thing _that had taken over her body eighteen months ago. At Yamsk-11. The place where this whole absurd 'war for our future' conflict began.

But that didn't matter anymore, did it? I want her to be happy, even if I would never be able to know for sure. God knows she deserves it after putting up with all the mud, blood, and warfare she'd been inadvertently swept up in. Even if she was a _Whispered_, at the end of the day, she was still a high school girl. Chidori was meant for better things than the likes of me. If I were to die at this very moment, to drop dead right now, I would be content that I was able to at least give her a chance for her to reclaim her old life.

My eyes still tracked the distant speck that was the plane before it disappeared into the morning sun. "Good luck..." I muttered before standing from Kalinin's body and ran headlong towards the base.

Burning wreckage of Arm Slaves and aircraft littered the blasted fields of the maneuvering grounds. I kept running. I found an entrance that hadn't been totally destroyed by precision missile-fire on one of the corners of the grounds. I kept running. Kicking down mesh gates, jumping down staircases, rounding corners and passing doors almost in random order. I. Kept. Running.

I didn't want to even move from my original position but something inside screamed for me to do so.

_Ikinasai_... go on and live.

Those words seemed to hold an indisputable power over me. I wanted to quit ‒ because it wasn't like I was going to find anything useful ‒ but I couldn't. I wouldn't. I still had strength in my limbs and air to breath.

_Ikinasai... _

So I kept running... and found myself in the dry-dock. I jogged to a stop and looked around listlessly, searching for something yet unable to figure out what I was looking for or even why I came here. The ICBM heading my way would rip into this base like a grenade through a straw hut. If the nuke was an airburst ‒ and it most likely would be considering its insertion method ‒ the heat of the detonation would cook everything within its blast radius, even the subterranean levels like this place. And even if, by some act of God, I survived the thermonuclear holocaust, the structures above would collapse and the ocean water would flow in, drowning me like a rat.

There was no place to go, on the surface or underground. Nowhere to escape what fate had in store for me. I glanced at my watch ‒ seven minutes left until impact.

"I guess there's nothing I can do..." I concluded. Well, there was one thing... but proper military decorum never allowed me to do it, especially not in public.

I sat down on the cool metallic floor, resting back on my hands with a small smile on my face. Like a civilian teenager after a long day of class. I could almost hear Mao screaming at my lack of discipline and my smile grew a bit larger.

I was split between hopefulness and resignation, between thinking for another means of survival and the want of a moment's simple relaxation. And, while It felt so good to just _stop_, what I truly yearned for was sleep. A day's worth at the very least. A coma, preferably. In about six minutes, I might just get my wish.

Across from me, there was a huge rent in the wall from where me and Leonard Testarossa, brother to my Captain and leader of Amalgam's forces, smashed through and settled our score. But whereas the _Belial_, Leonard's ridiculously powerful A.S., was a smoking ruin on the surface, I had left the _Laevatein_, my own A.S., down... down...

"Down here..." I realized, sitting up. I could almost hear Kaname's voice shouting at me for my stupidity like she did a million years ago. How did I completely forget about Al?

I stood and made my way over to a suspiciously-familiar pile of rubble. The _Laevatein _was still there, just where I'd left it. A quick look discerned that the head module was relatively intact ‒ perhaps the aural sensors were still operational?

I climbed up the pile and called out, "Al?"

From the external speaker systems, the flat and toneless voice of the Artificial Intelligence of the ARX-8 "Laevatein," formerly of the long destroyed ARX-7 "Arbalest," my partner in battle, answered. _"I thought you were going to leave me like this..."_

Was it me, or did Al sound relieved? Filing away that for later, I continued my inspection of my battle-damaged combat mecha.

The cockpit was a write-off ‒ completely destroyed ‒ thanks to Leonard shoving the _Belial's _fist through it. I still was mystified at how I had survived that one. But then, by all rights, I should've been dead a long time ago, back when I was six years old, and a trained assassin for _Nozh_. Luckily, fate, and an Afghani _Mujahedeen _warlord with an unusually soft heart for combat-capable children,had other plans for me. Shaking my head at my musings, I continued inspection.

Thankfully, the design team that rebuilt the _Laevatein _from the remains of the _Arbalest _kept the original location of the A.I. core in the abdomen of the Arm Slave. Al survived due to quality engineering and sheer dumb luck.

"You know about the nuke?" I asked as I lifted some rubble from around the ruined cockpit. I had no idea how I was going to pilot it or even _if _I could.

_"Yes, I do," _replied Al. _"I have been monitoring the transmissions from Afghanistan since you've been gone."_

In the hills and valleys of that Middle Eastern country, the second, and substantially larger, force of the remnants of _Mithril _had been attacking _Amalgam's_ captured missile base in simultaneous concert with the _De Danaan's _assault on Mérida Island. Sergeant Major Melissa Mao was there leading the attack, in effect to forestall the inevitable nuclear retaliation that would follow the destruction of Amalgam's facility here. Whatever was happening in Afghanistan, Mao's forces failed to stop a launch from one of the silos there.

_"It is a MIRV design," _continued Al, unaware of my tumultuous thoughts. _"One of the Mark-86 series. Each warhead is carrying a nominal charge of 550 kilotons in TNT equivalent, all of them targeting M__é__rida..."_

There was a pause, as if the A.I. felt the need to give me time enough to let all of that sink in. _"It is impossible to take refuge on the island."_

I nodded quietly. Already ahead of you, Al. We're fucked, got it.

_"At least we could get our revenge on that piece of scrap over there."_

That made me chuckle. Al was a prickly sort of person... thing... intelligence. When it was installed in the _Arbalest_, I used to hate having to work with it. Always, it seemed ready to pop off with some carefully veiled remark aimed at my incompetence in using the A.S. to the fullest degree, always delivered in its usual monotone. But now, in the _Laevatein_, Al was different. Its personality evolved, for lack of better term.

It seemed almost human now.

It was all the more telling at the start of this mission, when we were still on the _Tuatha De Danaan _hours ago, and taking torpedo after torpedo from the U.S. Navy who'd been lured into assisting _Amalgam _defend Mérida Island. The death of the Chief Maintenance Officer, Lieutenant Edward Sax, invoked expressions of guilt and remorse from the normally emotionless A.I. Al had begged me to explain the circumstances of Lt. Sax's death and to judge whether or not it had been responsible. I almost couldn't answer.

But where Al's personality had difficulties grasping the softer side of human emotion, it had no trouble at all when it came to personal pride and aggressiveness. Its opinions on the _Belial _were sort of funny, if not for the fact that I had once echoed them when that bastard Gauron was still alive. The A.I. despised the fact that there was another machine out there that could outperform the _Laevatein_, that was more powerful that it itself.

A year ago, in Tokyo, Leonard and his cronies attacked Jindai High school trying to capture Chidori. That was where it encountered the _Belial _and its absurdly powerful Lambda Driver... and lost. Since that day, it held a grudge like that of a housewife who discovered that her husband had been cheating behind her back with a much younger and prettier woman. Heh, how eager Al had been to extract vengeance from Leonard's A.S..

"How much time is left?" I asked, sitting back upon the _Laevatein_. It was useless, I couldn't pilot it in this condition. The dry-dock was going to become my watery grave.

_"Five minutes and counting." _Al seemed almost rueful.

"Seems so long..." I mused aloud.

The Wait. Every soldier hated it, the waiting. Waiting to fight, waiting to live, waiting to die... Seconds pass like minutes and minutes like hours. Waiting for time to pass was in its own category of torture. Time could break a man easier than beating him senseless; enough time passes and imagination will do most of the work for the interrogator.

So... what to do? I reached in one of my pockets to find something to amuse myself with until the end. I frowned as my finger felt something odd ‒ I pulled it out.

It was a memory chip. The same chip I received from Mira Kudan, a technician who'd gotten in contact with one of the students in mine and Kaname's class. I had originally planned to examine the contents of it after the operation had ended. Well, technically the op WAS finished but I no playback device available. And thanks to the _Belial_, the cockpit was destroyed. But perhaps there was still a functioning port inside.

"Hey Al, think you can read a memory card?" It was worth a shot, not like I was going anywhere anytime soon.

A series of beeps and whirs came from the head module. _"Confirmed, it is feasible. There is a functioning slot in the cockpit."_

I climbed down through the hole on the cockpit hatch and wrinkled my nose at the overpowering smell of burnt metal, vinyl, and ozone. The control seat was gone, the space full of shattered electronics and knotted cables. But then I found it, a small box-like device that had been spared from Leonard's attack. Pulling it towards me, I doubled check the connections ‒ they were good ‒ before inserting the card into the slot on the front.

"Is there a screen I can watch this on?" I asked, looking around.

_"Display panel six is operational. Displaying."_

Display panel six as it turned out was little larger than the size of a magazine, of the metal variety not the paper. It was also a touch screen and I tapped it several times and perused its contents. Mira had written a letter to go along with the envelope the card came in. She mentioned that his name was in the file name.

"And there it is."

A video named [c][tokanasousuke_01][/c] was highlighted. I tapped it again to open the video and once more to play it.

The video had crappy resolution and a lot of grainy, single-speaker sound. It looked like it had been recorded on an old handheld camera. Or a potato ‒ I really couldn't tell. It was a classroom, that much I could see from the small screen. I heard sounds from outside the classroom, the brass band club playing, shouting from the baseball team, girlish laughter from the hallways. I froze when I realized where this was.

Jindai High.

It wasn't classroom 2-4 but rather the one above it, 3-4. But still, I recognized the sounds from a light-hearted time, when I had been an uncomfortable guard in a setting so undisciplined, unruly, and chaotic from the military life I was used to. Before I could lose myself in memory, the picture shuddered and then the floor and the ceiling switched places.

_"Hey, is this thing on already?" _said a familiar voice.

_"Its upside down. Look." _said another.

The camera was then turn upright and then stabilized ‒ it must have been fixed onto a tripod. A drew in a sharp breath as a face came into view: Shinji Kazama. The mil-tech geek from my class whose constant fixation on all things Arm Slave paralleled my own. He was... my best friend? I suppose he was, outside of my SRT.

And Shinji was saying something.

_"Err...*Ahem* " _he started, clearing his throat with a cough. _"We don't really know where you guys are... and what you're doing... so we thought we would give you some news this way. If you see this, please contact us, you know... somehow. When you can."_

_"Hey hey, you're not making any sense talking like that!" _came a voice from off screen. Laughter followed and Shinji looked visibly embarrassed.

_"B-but we don't really remember know if it's ok to day names and all... Op-Sec, r-right? And we'll be making this out for the world to see, you know..."_

The same voice, again, said, _"Baka, who cares. Come on, one-two-"_

Again, the picture shifted and now it showed the students gathered in front of the blackboard. Three dozen of them. People I knew quite well. And they all shouted as one:

_"Chidori! Sagara! Come back quickly!"_

They were far from unison ‒ very far, in fact ‒ and they broke off into laughter. Some were saying that they should remake the video while others were saying, _"no way!"_. I shook my head and felt a smile creeping to my lips. It was strangely infectious, the students' honest laughter. So innocent, so at-ease.

Shinji was turning the camera back to him. he had a somewhat strained smile on his face. _"...so-o, that's sort of what we wanted to do for you. Thought that you two might see it somewhere. So, um, who shall me start with?"_

_"Sensei! Sensei will go first!" _shouteda cacophony of voices behind the camera, punctuated deafeningly with whistles and claps of approval.

Shinji moved off screen and was replaced by a woman with collar-length auburn hair. It was my teacher, Eri Kagurazaka! But she was dressed differently than usual; normally her peach-color business suit was the only attire I'd seen her in. Seeing Kagurazaka-sensei dressed in casual garb was bizarre yet fitting.

She seemed put out that she was volun_told _by her students but seemed determined to play the mature adult. _"Eeh... *Ahem* Sagara-kun, Chidori-san, I'm your homeroom teacher, Kagurazaka. How are? A lot of things happened, but everyone is doing their best. I'm keeping your personal effects, so don't worry about them."_

An amused snort escaped me. The woman was always so formal. Even in the face of certain death ‒ like when Gauron hijacked their plane and put a gun to her head ‒ Kagurazaka-sensei would do things by the book, no excuses. I could admire that sort of conviction. Where she in a military setting, she'd make one hell of an efficient officer.

Apparently, that was the wrong mindset for this video in the eyes of her students. _"Sensei, is there really nothing else you could say?"_

Blushing lightly, Kagurazaka-sensei continued, _"Ah... well, as a matter of fact, I do! Last year, I married Mizuhoshi-sensei." _A genuine smile bloomed on her face. _"Thanks to you, I finally did it. Thank you, really!"_

And oh how the class cheered. Their shouts made the speaker sputter and pop.

_"Sensei, there's something else, isn't there?"_

Kagurazaka-sensei blinked in confusion before she blushed deeper. Her smile grew as well. _"Oh... right, well. After you all graduate, in April, I will go on maternity leave. We are expecting a baby in June. If you can, please come back to meet us."_

The tinny din from the single speaker was deafening. Everyone seemed to have been applauding as the teacher awkwardly left the picture. Good for her. I hope that she and her new husband have a long and happy life together.

_"Alright, who's next?" _ shouted a student.

_"Kyouko! Let Kyouko do it!" _answered another student.

_"...eh? Me? I... err..." _The redhead off screen seemed to be caught unawares.

Too bad the other students wouldn't let her form a rebuttal. _"Kyouko! Kyouko!" _they groused good-naturedly.

Kyouko Tokiwa, Chidori's best friend, was practically pushed into the picture. She looked good from the last time I saw her. A little older, too, appearing a touch more mature without her usual pigtails. There was also a hardness in her eyes that wasn't there before. A look of knowledge and experience hard-earned by an event of soul-shattering fear mixed with the threat of death. I knew quite well what that felt like and it was easy to see if you know what to look for.

Kyouko-san had triumphed over something not many women her age could handle: being kidnapped by mercenaries and having enough explosives strapped to your chest to level a school.

And while it scarred her ‒ if not physically, then emotionally ‒ she seemed unbroken by it. I wondered if Kaname ever knew of the incredible stores of fortitude her closest childhood friend had within her. Or how badly her silence on the true nature of my existence hurt Kyouko-san.

_"Um..." _began the bespectacled girl uncertainly, _"Kana-chan, Sagara-kun? If you're watching this then you know that I'm fine. You must have been really worried, but please, don't be. Oh, and my the way, Hammy's staying with me so don't worry about him either. Graduation's on the third of March. I'd be very happy if you could let us know how you're doing until then..."_

Kyouko-san drifted off and another student was about to step on screen. Suddenly, she shouted, _"Hold it!" _and the other students were stunned into silence. I could only blink at the forcefulness of the usually bubbly girl.

Kyouko-san stared into the camera with an intensity I've never seen in her eyes before and she began speaking directly to me. _"Sagara-kun, I have an admission to make. I've been a terrible friend to you. I never once got the chance to thank you for what you did on the roof... with the bomb and... yeah." _She sniffed and thumbed the tears from her eyes before they could mess up her glasses. _"Thank you. Thank you so much for saving my life, Sagara-kun! I wish I could find some way to repay you for that, but I can't. Not until you come back."_

The rest of the class seemed as stunned into silence as I was.

I... I really didn't have anything to say to that.

I've saved _a lot _of people in my life, all humility aside. But now, at this moment, I've never actually contemplated the gratitude of those I've helped. I used to brush it off like dust on my uniform ‒ "Not a problem" was my usual reply to such things. But Kyouko-san was the only other person aside from Chidori that has seen what I could do, how easily I could end a life and not dwell on it. She saw me at my worst and was terrified by it.

"And now she's thanking me?" I wondered aloud, bemused.

_"And Kana-chan," _the redhead said, a fox-like smirk on her face that contrasted sharply with her wet eyes. _"I hope that for your sake you're going to make Sagara-kun your boyfriend because if you don't..." _She blushingly struck a pose that showed off her... um. Chesty assets. _"I will."_

The class was in uproar at her pronouncement, guys catcalling and girls "Kya-ing!" at Kyouko's brazenness. She blushed deeper as she fought to keep her composure and finished with another proverbial bomb. _"A-and I know that every other girl here wants to as well!" _

_"She didn't..." _shouted one girl in disbelief, off screen

_"She did!" _groaned another.

_"Get her off camera before she says something else!"_

_"Dammit, Kyouko, you weren't supposed to tell him that!"_

Quickly, the bespectacled girl was yanked out of the picture. I could hear numerous shouts now before someone roared for silence. I've never been so confused in my life. Really, Tokiwa-san? Was she kidding? I hoped so, but a part of me knew better.

Then a larger, colder part of me dampened my embarrassment with the sobering reminder that I would never get the chance to find out. Ten 550 kiloton bombs were going to shut that avenue before it even began in oh... a minute-and-a-half.

I saw Ono-D ‒ real name Kōtarō Onodera ‒ move in on screen and gave his well-wishes. Followed by another student. And another. And another. And many more after that, all saying one thing.

_Come home..._

The video seemed so very long to me. So much longer than the time I had left.

I was sitting back now, reclining awkwardly on the destroyed command seat, staring up through the hole in the cockpit towards the dry-dock's carved rock ceiling high above. I listened to my former classmates... just listening to their voices, and remembering the times I had with them. The good, the bad, and the hilariously absurd.

My training of Jindai's rugby club came to me for some reason and I recalled it with a detached perspective, looking from the outside in, like it was a television program.

I began to chuckle.

Another memory came to me, this time from the bake-sale debacle. I remembered all my efforts to ensure the quality and integrity of the little bread goods from the sabotage by the head coach.

I began to laugh.

Another memory, this one of the time that I stalked ‒ no, not stalked, _observed _‒ Kaname shouting at the Yakuza under Ren Mikihara's father's command for being complete and utter wastes of manliness after they complained of getting their collective butts kicked by other gangs. I had been in a stuffed animal costume then, acting with full military bearing while having Chidoi act as my 'translator.'

Now I was laughing harder than I ever have in my life. So hard in fact that I missed the ending of the class video and Al's attempts to inform me of my elevated heart rate.

Yet another memory enveloped me. This one different than the others.

It was of Chidori and the day of the club contest to gain new members. Female members. As Kurtz would say, it was a 'I-can-pull-more-ass-than-you-can' competition. I was in the photography club at the time, assisting Shinji and Ono-D. We had failed miserably by the end of it and due to rash side-bet I made, I was forced to strip in front of the school. I had only gotten my outer shirt unbuttoned when all of a sudden, this woman appears, dressed in a formal Japanese yukata. It was lavender and it offset gloriously with her styled cerulean hair. She came to me and hugged me, claiming that while she was a married woman, I had swept her off her feet. This same woman won me the contest and as we left the other slack-jawed clubs behind, I was feeling a curious sense of familiarity mixed with awkwardness. I had no idea who she was or when we'd met but I wanted to find out.

And I asked her, "Who are you?"

And she replied with... laughter. Laughter than I knew very well. Oh my God, it was Chidori! Oh my God, it was Chidori. I'd never thought she could be any more beautiful at that one moment in time. Often, in the months afterwards, I thought about her, dressed like a traditional housewife. I wanted to see her like that again. As _my _wife, had I let some of those fantasies play out.

But always in the back of my mind, I knew that it could never be. Chidori could never be anything more than a mistress to my true love.

War. Combat.

Now things were different. Times have changed. We got a little bit older and we both knew how each other felt. We'd promised to meet again and share the kiss we've both been dreaming of sharing. Unspoken was the thought that we might become... _something_.

But then things changed again and we found ourselves as enemies for over the last year. And then, hell, a few hours ago, I even berated over the radio, calling her a coward and promising to destroy her. Granted, she had been possessed and didn't believe me but those were our final words to each other. And in my idiocy, I missed my chance to say goodbye. Twelve seconds that I'd never get back again.

Sighing, I checked my watch but I couldn't read it properly. The quartz surface was swimming and distorting, as if I were looking at it through water.

Or tears.

I was... crying? My face felt hot and my eyes seemed to burn. I touched my cheek and my glove came back damp. I sniffed hard and tasted phlegm from my dripping nose.

So I was.

_I don't want to die..._

I never once thought about dying seriously before. Sure the possibility was always there but to me it was always in a clinical fashion. One day, orders would come down from on high and some personnel officer would mark a checkbox by my name. A nameplate would be removed from my locker and my bunk would get cleaned and laundered. A few drinks would be lifted in my honor by the crew of the _De Danaan _before going back to business as usual. And I would be gone while Chidori stayed here.

That thought made me feel sick to my stomach. I knew that she might mourn me for a while and cry for my death. But she was a strong girl with an even stronger personality. My death would be but a speed bump on the road of her life. Chidori would then find someone else she liked, get married, have children, grow old and die.

Ten minutes ago, I could have accepted that. but now‒

_I don't want to die..._

‒I'm sitting here wishing I could have a life that was conducive for romance.

It was life that I could never have, thanks to the Omni-sphere experiment back in '84, the event that produced the _Whispered _and the _Black Technology_ we've come to know. Not to mention that my interference with Amalgam's plans today helped close the proverbial door on further attempts to change the past.

Forever.

How strange it would be to live in a world so very different from this one. How sad it could have been to have wound back the clock and relive the last eighteen years ignorant of the sacrifices from those that had died thus far. I was keenly aware that I played a part in those deaths. One hundred and thirty-seven to be precise. And all because‒

_I DON'T want to die..._

‒I wanted to survive to live another day.

Why?

What was I searching for? What did I want from my life? What would give all those deaths I've caused meaning? Mao tried to tell me, before this mission started. She said that I never should have been a soldier, that I was too soft hearted and kind. Kalinin said pretty much the same thing, that although I learned the skills of combat, I was a sheep playing amongst wolves. An aberration that didn't belong on the battlefield despite the fact that‒

_I DON'T WANT to die..._

‒I was good at it. Damn good. I can set explosives, fire rifles, pilot Arm Slaves, and I have no qualms about killing.

But I can still feel sorrow and guilt and happiness and every other spectrum of the human emotional spectrum. I am not a robot. I'm a soldier. Why do people think otherwise? Is it my age? Am I too young to seek martial perfection? Why am I so different from everyone else around me? Even though‒

_I DON'T WANT to DIE..._

‒I'm barely eighteen, people still feel it necessary to act like my life has been a travesty, that I've lived foolishly. I frowned through my tears.

How. Dare. They.

I've faced things that would turn grown men into weeping, gibbering wrecks

I then wiped the tears from my faced roughly, unwilling to allow myself to live for the next few second a hypocrite.

Sure, others have lived longer and experienced things other than war. But I've never had the opportunity to even grow up like Chidori and her friends. I was five when the KGB picked me up and molded me for battle. I was six when I killed my first man and I never even knew his name. By eight years old, I was shooting missiles at Russian A.S.'s in Afghanistan and sniping their leaders while they shit. I joined _Mithril _at thirteen and ran mission up until now.

Did I want to be a soldier then? No, but I did the best that I could do to survive. How dare they tell me that my life was wasted!

Of course I want to do more with my life. Yes, I want to go back to school, to make friends, and be with Chidori for as long as I can. And no, I don't want to be here, waiting for the nukes to drop down on my head.

I wish that I could see Chidori one last time because‒

_I DON'T WANT TO DIE!_

"I don't want to die..." I growled through gritted teeth, punching the shattered console with my fist and feeling the knuckle break. I embraced the pain, drawing a measure of comfort from the fact that I could still feel.

But I hated feeling like this. Of all the emotions in the world, despair was the one I most reviled. I wiped my eyes again as I tried to collect myself. I Tried to remember the training. Life sucks and people die. Get the fuck over it.

_"...sergeant. Twenty seconds left," _I heard Al say softly.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. There was this lump in my throat that made my words come out as less than soldierly. Undignified, even. The military was all about dignity. And control. That was what I needed. Control. Soldiers like me were trained to live with control, to fight when ordered to, to die if necessary.

I felt disgusted with myself for losing sight of that. How pathetic was I for wallowing in misery.

Sitting up, I wiped my face for the last time, attempting to collect whatever remained of my pride. I refuse to die whimpering like a child. _Nozh _taught me better than that. Kalinin taught me better than that. Hell, even Mao taught me better than that.

Fight to live and if you must die, keeping on fighting until the end. Only cowards accept the possibility of defeat.

"I refuse to die like a coward," I spat viciously.

_"Fifteen seconds, sergeant," _dutifully chimed in the A.I.

Suddenly, a weird feedback squawked from the internal speaker system and a voice I've never heard before spoke to me.

_**"Oh yes! Very good, sergeant! Very proud... I like that." **_

Okay, what the hell was that?

The voice was soft and sultry, sounding both full of promise while at the same time haughty and disdainful. The voice seemed full of a smug assurance so strong that even the most confident leader in the world would be hard-pressed to emulate it.

And it sounded very, very female.

"What's going on, Al?" I asked, confused. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Because if it was, the A.I. had a poor sense of humor.

The female voice seemed amused at my outburst and she chuckled. _**"Oh, no, no, no, Sousuke Sagara of Mithril. This no joke. There is no time for that. Barely any time at all for what I have to offer you. I can only slow descent of time for long..."**_

I blinked. Once. Twice. "Offer?" I said angrily. "Who are you and what the hell do you want from me?"

The voice laughed even harder now, as if I had said some joke unawares. _**"Fu-fu-fu, you aren't a bright one, are you? I can see why she'll like you. But it's not, 'What the hell do you want from me' but rather, 'What does Hell want to do with you?'."**_

The inflection combined with the utter confidence in that statement made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. A spark of fear shot through me.

"I... what?"

_**"To put it simply, I am here talking to you because I heard that you might have a wish that needs granting,"**_the voice said mysteriously. _**"And it just so happens that you have qualities I look for in prospective clientele. You remember what you said earlier. No? Well let me quote you: 'I wish to see Chidori again and I don't want to die!' Ring any bells? Because if so, I can help you... for a price." **_

Those were the exact same words that I had spoken...no. Not spoken.

Thought.

I felt a strange nervousness envelope me, a sense of growing _wrongness _that seemed to attribute of the female voice. And her 'offer' of help... Something was very wrong here. Something that set my nerves on fire and my soul screaming silently within.

I swallowed my nervousness. "What price?" I asked of the voice.

_**"Service... If you accept, I will grant you your wish and as a bonus, I'll remove the karmic debt you've incurred over the years."**_

The voice did not elaborate upon the nature of its proposed 'service.' I was getting a feeling that I was conversing with something that _should not be spoken of_.

Years ago, I had studied the Qur'an under the tutelage of General Majhid and in it were creatures called _jinn. _These _jinn_ tempted mortals with promises of power under the guise of wishes. They came in two types, the neutral or free _jinn_, and the evil ones, called _shayātīn_. And they were led by a _jinn _called Iblis.

Iblis, in Christianity and Judaism, was another name for the Devil.

Satan.

And he.. err, _she _was asking for service from me, as a price for saving my life. Such as it was so far...

"W-what if I refuse?" I asked, feeling very sick. I knew the answer already. If she could read my thoughts, then she obviously knew of everything I've done up until this point.

_**"Then you will die and your soul will be mine to torment until eternity's end." **_

Because of my karmic debt... for all the people I've killed.

_**"What do you say, Sousuke-kun? Do you accept?"**_

I thought for what seemed to be a long moment, though it was little more than a second or two. Damnation lay in either choice. Heh, what was the old saying? Damned if you did, damned if you didn't.

I opened my mouth to answer the voice...

And a moment later, the MIRV warheads a mile above detonated and my world disappeared in a wash of nuclear fire.

**To be continued...**

**A/N: This was a re-write of the story "Full Metal Panic Goddess Complex" by the author IwriteThings. I asked his/her permission roughly a year ago but I never got around to completing it due to school work. But here is the first chapter, I hope you enjoy.**

**Be aware: There are MASSIVE SPOILERS for the ending of the final "Full Metal Panic! Sigma" novel, "Always Stand By Me." Basically, this is my reinterpretation of the plot with the obvious twist at the end.**


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